The Wicked End
by FuturisticVampire
Summary: In the fog of the TwolegPlace, where the only forests are the cluster of metal buildings and domesticated plants, there are five clans of cats living in the shadows. At the moment, they rule the city, but they're unaware of the monsters lurking in the background... (T for the usual reasons)
1. Prologue

**So, hey guys, I'm out with another story! I think it's a pretty cool idea, but honestly I'm not entirely sure how to go about it. So let me know what you think; advice is always appreciated and acknowledged!**

 **(Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors or anything quoted in this story).**

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 _"Man's becoming more corrupt now, godless, wicked, and cruel. The soulless man stood silenced, Mary's words rang so true."_

 _-The Wicked End,_ Avenged Sevenfold

 **Prologue:**

Metallic rain pattered onto the cobblestone streets of the city. streetlamps glowed in the darkness. The roads were empty and silent, for who would he rude enough to drive a carriage through the streets of London in the middle of the night?

A single cat sat in silence, alone. Mud ran off his fur in streams as the rain hit him, and a puddle was starting to form around his paws. Regardless of the rainfall, he sat still.

When a black cat half his size came up to him, he barely looked up, those light blue eyes not losing their complete disinterest of the world around him.

"Drake," the small cat said. His voice was quiet as a snake's hiss, but sharp enough to call attention to himself.

"Father." The other cat's voice was rather coarse. "What brings you here?"

The black cat ignored the question and asked one of his own.

"How have you been doing, Drake?"

"Oh, very fine. Just _amazing_." Drake rolled his eyes. "Just fucking fine," he mumbled one last time.

The black cat sighed. "Sooner or later, you'll have to get over her."

Drake kind of snarled, but said nothing.

"Look, Drake. I need you ready to fight. Are you?"

"Always," Drake growled through gritted teeth. His claws unsheathed against the black stone.

The small cat nodded and raised a white paw to his tongue. "Good."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because the moment of opportunity we've been waiting for is here," the black cat answered. Drake's eyes sparked, and it was the first time in the conversation he looked straight at his father. "We attack in three days," the black cat finished.

Drake nodded, and his returned his gaze to his rippling reflection in the puddle.

A long pause followed, until the small cat sighed.

"You should get some rest, Drake," he said, and walked away.

A growl rumbled in the back of Drake's throat after he was gone. Of course he was ready to fight, especially if it was against those goddamn Clan Cats. Especially if he got to kill that little bastard, Fireheart, for murdering his mate.


	2. Chapter 1:: Challengers

**So, basically, in this, Fireheart was never really accepted as a warrior of ThunderClan despite all he's done for the clan. Many cats were more than unhappy that he was chosen by Bluestar to be deputy, and it shows now.**

 **Also, reviews are always appreciated, especially early in the story when I'm trying to figure out how to get into the story so don't hesitate to give advice or anything :)**

 **This also takes place directly after A Dangerous Path.**

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 _"Take a breath, hold it in. Start a fight; you won't win. Had enough? Let's begin. Nevermind, I don't care."_

 _-What Lies Beneath,_ Breaking Benjamin

Chapter 1:: Challengers

To Fireheart, it seemed like this was all a punishment. For abandoning his past family, leaving them for the hounds, he now gets to watch his new family get eaten alive by one cat's lust for vengeance.

He plodded down the street; even the sun seemed to mock him. Beasts and twolegs alike walked past him without a word. This was the part of the city that he could walk in open sunlight without being kicked by anyone. Though, he'd probably be deserving of it if he were to be.

He sighed heavily, and tried to stop his breath from catching in his throat. What was he going to tell Whitestorm, who'd always trusted him, always saw the best in him: the housecat who could become a warrior?

He would hate him.

Fireheart couldn't even recover her body from the bloodthirsty hounds that tore her apart. They devoured her and Fireheart watched it all happen from a cellar window. She gave her life for his, when he, as deputy, should have given his life for hers.

What would Greystripe say? Would he be sympathetic to his best friend, or ridicule him like most of ThunderClan was sure to do? He could hear the jibes already.

 _Weak kittypet, stupid kittypet, never should have been allowed into the clan..._

Long before he would have liked, he was inside the camp. The camp was an old building that was broken down and abandoned by twolegs. The foundations still stood, as well as the walls which were at least five tail-lengths high, and there were many places to make discreet nests in the basement of it. It wasn't exactly a strategic place to stay, as the ceiling was full of holes and it constantly rained, but it worked Fireheart supposed.

Whitestorm went to him as soon as he walked through the doorway. "Where is she?"

Fireheart took a breath, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to say that all he did was cower while Bluestar's limbs were torn from her body.

"Fireheart, where's Bluestar?"

He just shook his head and looked at the ground, fighting back tears.

Whitestorm flinched backwards. "Fireheart, dammit, use your words." Fireheart knew he realised, but just didn't want to acknowledge it.

"She didn't make it," he choked out, confirming what Whitestorm was hoping wasn't true.

"Oh, StarClan..." he whispered. "How did it happen? How did you make it and she didn't?"

Fireheart swallowed back a sob and composed himself enough to recount the events that led to his leader's death.

"I had Tigerstar cornered in an alleyway, and-and the dogs came, and he ran and they all came at me, but Bluestar, she came, and she pushed me through a broken window into a cellar. They ripped her apart..."

Whitestorm took a long moment to process the information. "And you just let them?" he growled.

"I... there was nothing I could do," Fireheart stammered.

"There was noth-?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You could have _helped_ her!"

"Is there a problem here?" Both toms looked over when Darkstripe's bemused voice reached them.

"Bluestar is dead," Fireheart told him, the disgusting, smug asshole. He would feign surprise now, but he knew that Darkstripe was behind this, coercing with Tigerstar to commit atrocities in ThunderClan. He knew it, now if only he could prove it.

"Dead?" Darkstripe was indeed a good actor, Fireheart had to admit. "How convenient for you."

Fireheart growled in warning.

"What's going on?" Another voice, this time the three cats looked up to see Cinderpelt limping her way over.

Whitestorm sighed. "Fireheart was just about to make an announcement to the Clan." He looked meaningfully over to the ginger warrior. "Right?"

He nodded. "Yes."

As it was sunset, most of the clan was in the basement of the camp, sharing tongues and eating whatever scraps were left of the day.

He led the way to the open hatch, letting Whitestorm, Darkstripe, and Cinderpelt go down first. When they were out of the way, he jumped down to one of the higher steps and called for all the cats' attention.

They gave it to him immediately. They'd been waiting for this call, to see what news their deputy brought to them after luring the dogs away from camp.

He took a breath. He still didn't know what to say, how to deliver the news. Some sort of speech would be best he knew, something to dull the shock of death.

Into the expectant silence, he said, "Bluestar is dead."

 _Silence._

And then,

"What? How?"

"What do you mean, where is she?"

"She hasn't left the camp in moons, how can it be?"

" _Liar_!"

He sat with his eyes closed and took the verbal beatings with grace. Once the clamour died down, he explained what had happened the same way he'd explained it to Whitestorm.

"And now what, _you're_ our leader?" The question was Longtail's.

Fireheart stammered again. He didn't even _want_ to be leader, but Bluestar had thought it best. Broken, grieving, and arguably insane, she had thought it best.

"Well?"

"I _am_ the deputy," he said softly. He wished he wasn't.

Longtail sneered at this.

Darkstripe joined him. "Well, I don't want a _kittypet_ as my leader."

Fireheart flinched.

Whitestorm also spoke up, jumping onto the step below Fireheart. "Bluestar chose Fireheart as deputy, it's only fair to her if he ascends to the status of leader. However, there are rules..."

Fireheart looked down at him in surprise. The white warrior met his gaze, his eyes no more than icy blue slits.

"If a warrior wishes to challenge the deputy for their status upon the death of the leader, then he or she may do so, but be prepared to face the consequences if they lose. Are there any challengers?"

There were quite a few challengers.

Whitestorm dipped his head.

"Very well."

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 ***Badly placed chapter ending***


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